


Hangovers, Housecoats and Wrapping Paper Fallout

by pieta (ManicMoose)



Series: Full House 'Verse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Curtain Fic, Domestic, Established Relationship, Future Fic, Humor, Kid Fic, M/M, Parenthood, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-23
Updated: 2011-03-23
Packaged: 2017-10-17 05:39:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/173484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ManicMoose/pseuds/pieta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean enjoy Christmas morning with Bobby and the kids, and Bobby is very hungover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hangovers, Housecoats and Wrapping Paper Fallout

**Author's Note:**

> A short schmoopy little ficlet sequel to 'The Night Before Christmas'.

    “My god, Dude, I swear, every year it gets worse,” Dean grumbles at Sam, surveying the sea of destruction that is the living room floor with horror. “We’re going to have to move to like, gift bags or something ridiculously girly like that. I can’t even see the carpet. And that’s not even the worst of it.” He scowls comically as he gulps his coffee. “What really gets me is how freakin’ long I spent wrapping all that crap. And then bam!- fifteen minutes and it’s like gift-wrap Armageddon.”

    “Well Dean, maybe if wrapping wasn’t such an epic feat that takes hours of blood sweat and tears for you, you wouldn’t be so wounded. It’s not rocket science, man. You just need to make up a system for doing it, and it’s quick and painless.” Sam counters with a grin as he hands Bobby a steaming mug of coffee, then settles back on the couch close enough to Dean to nudge him with an elbow.

    “Oh, I’m sorry Samantha. I guess not all of us can share your amazing flair for gift-wrapping. It must be a girl thing.” Dean levels a glare in Sam’s direction. “Real men can’t wrap worth shit; am I right Bobby?

    Bobby grunts noncommittally, wincing as he chugs his coffee- strong and black- urgently enough make any frat boy proud. Dean homes in on his pained expression like a hunter sighting prey, and smiles brilliantly at him, all dimples and devious charm.

    “A little too much Nog for you last night, old man?”

    “You could say that.” Bobby grumbles back, glowering at Dean over the rim of his mug fiercely. Or rather, as fiercely as is possible for someone so incredibly hungover, so unfortunately early in the morning. Dean just beams impossibly wider in return, and Sam cuts in chidingly before he can volley back some taunting snark.

    “I told you it would knock even you on your ass Bobby. Never underestimate Dean’s Nog; that stuff is borderline lethal.” Sam pauses thoughtfully, thinking back to the night before, and frowns at Bobby. “But, hey, I don’t remember you having that much of it before you-“

    “Going soft in your old age?” Dean interrupts cheekily, clearly having the time of his life. He makes a dramatic gesture of solidarity with his own mug as he continues. “I’m telling ya Bobby, one hunter to another; there comes a time when man has to accept that all the Nog in the world can’t make you unsee all the crazy shit. You just gotta let go- and repress it like nobody’s business.” Bobby lets out a funny strangled sound, then stares down pointedly into his coffee.

    “So I’m learning.”

    “It’s all about repressing Bobby. That’s the Winchester way of life. Repress, repress, repress.” Dean nods sagely, tamping down on his grin, but only managing to tone it down as far as a smirk. Sam chokes on his coffee, shooting Dean a warning look, because really; that’s moving into some potentially hazardous territory there. He glances worriedly at Bobby, who’s sullenly avoiding eye contact in favour of…- Sam traces his gaze- a random spot on the wall, apparently? And who, more troublingly, is suspiciously looking a little redder than usual beneath his beard.

    “Oh trust me, boy. I’m trying.” Bobby snorts.

    “Well, you just keep up the good work.” Dean gives him a cheerful thumbs up and goes back to smugly sipping his coffee. Sam shakes his head exasperatedly at him, and turns back to Bobby with a bright smile.

    “I won’t even bother telling you to ignore him. Thanks again for the housecoats Bobby. They’re really comfortable.” Sam motions at his and Dean’s matching terry robes.

    “Yeah, they really are totally awesome.” Dean beams seriously this time. He rubs his hand over the soft fabric on his lap. “Thanks Bobby.” Bobby smiles gruffly back at them and wiggles his feet in a completely un-Bobby-like way.

    “Yeah, well, thanks for the slippers boys. I’ll kill you both if you tell anyone about this. But they’re goddamn comfortable.” They all laugh together; and Sam thinks briefly to himself what a stark difference it is to the past; back when it was all blood and death and misery.

    The three of them sit in companionable silence, drinking their coffee contentedly until they hear the thundering stampede of feet on the stairs. Dean groans dramatically and Sam tilts his head over to smile at him, amused.

    “Chaos; incoming.”

    “Daaaaaaaaaad!” The imperious shriek precedes the three small intruders into the room. Dean scrubs his hand over his face, preparing himself for the onslaught.         “Mary’s being bossy.” Johnny stomps into the room, crabbily with Mary hot on his heels.

    “I wonder who she gets that from.” Dean and Sam sarcastically declare in unison, then turn and bluster at one another.

    “Oh I am so not!” Dean protests with an affronted glower.

    “Oh, and I am?” Sam pouts back, insulted.

    “Totally,” Dean assures, and Bobby rolls his eyes at them. Dean coughs into his hand and addresses the kids, lined up expectantly in front of him and Sam. “Mary, were you bossing your brother around again?” He questions, reaching out to lift Ellie from where she’s perched on Mary’s hip, looking confused and mildly disinterested, and settle her into his lap.

    “No.” Mary denies stubbornly. Dean gives her an arched look, and she bites her lip apprehensively, “Maybe?”

    “Mhmm,” Dean stares back, unimpressed, and Johnny beams triumphantly.

    “But he wasn’t letting Ellie play with his cars, and she was getting upset!” She elaborates defensively. Sam and Dean turn their eyes on Johnny as his triumphant expression crumbles into an uneasy grimace instantly.

     “Oh really,” Dean drawls out, eyes locked with Johnny’s, eyebrows rising incrementally.

    “I- I…” Johnny trails off, frowning to himself as he clearly comes to the conclusion that perhaps his bringing this series of events to his parents’ attention may not have been the most well thought out course of action.

    “You’re better off owning up to it now, kiddo. Don’t go making it worse for yourself.” Bobby helpfully contributes from his spot in the armchair. Johnny nods gracelessly.

    “What do you think would be best thing to do then Johnny?” Sam takes over, resting his forearms on his knees and leaning forward to meet Johnny’s eyes easier.

    “’Pologize?” Johnny mumbles, shuffling his feet against the carpet uncertainly. Sam nods the affirmative, and Johnny clears his throat before peering up through his bangs at first at Ellie and then Mary. “Sorry.”

    Mary nods her head haughtily, accepting his apology grandly, while Ellie beams back at him from against Dean’s arm.

    “Kay.” She declares, clearly long past the offense of being denied toy access.

    “Well, that was pretty easy, eh tiger?” Dean declares, beaming at him, and reaches out to ruffle a hand through his hair. “Now who wants Uncle Sammy to make some pancakes?” He propositions, and the room erupts in excited agreement. Sam laughs exasperatedly at Dean, but nods, and scoops Johnny and Mary, squealing, under each of his arms as he heads to the kitchen; Dean, and Bobby following closely behind with Ellie. “Pancakes and bacon, Sammy! Pancakes and Bacon,” Dean calls after Sam, and Bobby grunts appreciatively.

    “Pancakes and bacon, Dean. Always,” Sam grins back at Dean over his shoulder, eyes twinkling. "Whatever you want."


End file.
